


Give Me Your Hand

by jumbi



Series: Filling the Void [12]
Category: Super Paper Mario (Game)
Genre: Dancing and Singing, F/M, enjoy it while it lasts nassy, pregame, shades of a budding relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-19 18:36:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19138384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumbi/pseuds/jumbi
Summary: nastasia and the count learn a song that o'chunks has stuck in his head when confronted with a view of the sky.





	Give Me Your Hand

**Author's Note:**

> this short scene takes place in my larger comic story "filling the void". it takes place between scenes 69 (o'chunks tries to get the count to talk about his feelings after catching on to the count's "prophecy escape plan") and 70 (o'chunks finishes folding his paper stars in memorial of his troops).

This world had the most bizarre sky Nastasia had ever seen. During the day, it looked fairly normal; perhaps a green tint to it. But once the sun went down… Thousands and thousands of stars collected in a spiral that rose gently over the hill as the evening wore on.

“I have never seen anything quite like it,” the Count said to her, wistful as the long faded trails across the sky. Their campfire cast a brighter glow to his face than his eyes could manage. Nastasia let her stare linger for another moment. The Count caught her eye, then nodded toward O’Chunks.

He was grumbling into his bag. “This kind of view calls for a song,” he said. He gave up and sat back.

“What were you looking for?” Nastasia called.

“I was hopin’ for some kind o’noise maker. I dinnae ever pack one, though, did I?”

She shook her head, and O’Chunks shrugged. “Guess me voice will haf’ta do. Nassy, d’yeh know how to dance?”

She shook her head again.

“Well, c’mere an’ I’ll teach yeh.”

Nastasia glanced to the Count for permission, but he was looking up at the sky again. She had to wonder where in the universe they were to see the spirals, or if it was some kind of property of the world itself.

“C’mon!” O’Chunks motioned toward himself. Nastasia rose to her feet with a sigh, brushed herself off, and crossed the campsite.

“Um, Count… Are you coming?” Nastasia turned back. The Count blinked and returned his attention to the world, but shook his head.

“Might not be as fun, fer ‘im…” O’Chunks tugged at his beard.

The Count grimaced. “No, it’s merely… Not right now.”

“Now, there’s diff’rent styles o’dancin’,” O’Chunks began, when Nastasia stepped closer. “There’s fancy ballroom-dancin’…”

Nastasia straightened. “Oh, yeah, I think I remember that…”

“An’ another one is how we did it, back at me home.” He stared down at Nastasia, his brows knotting slowly. “Though… I think yeh may nae be agile enough for that one, Nassy.” He paused. “… I may nae be agile enough for tha’ anymore, either, actually.”

“’K, ballroom dancing it is, then,” she replied. “I, um, might need a quick review session…”

O’Chunks snorted. “It’s not hard. The trick is in yer footwork.” He lifted Nastasia’s hand as close to his shoulder as she could reach, and held her other hand. “Yeh jus’ stand like this. There’s a few diff’rent ways yeh can go, but, I never much cared fer the music. I dinnae recall the moves very well. Here, follow me lead.”

He stepped back and forth with her, slowly, trying to sort out the differences between her stride and his. Nastasia methodically followed along, nudging her feet out of the way before O’Chunks could stumble on her boots. She couldn’t help but blink for a moment at how much larger his feet were than hers.

After a moment he chuckled softly and started humming. “T’help keep a rhythm,” he muttered, when Nastasia looked up at him. The humming slowly grew into words. “Just give me your hand, Tabhair dom do lámh…”

“Yeah, ‘k, that helps. I think I’ve got the hang of it,” she said, stepping back. O’Chunks set his big hands on his sides and nodded.

“Count! Yeh sure yeh don’t want teh come o’er here with us?”

The Count had simply been watching from across the fire. His eyes turned toward the ground, away from the fire and from the two of them. The bright spirals in the sky illuminated his horns and played off the fluff on his head.

“C’mon!” O’Chunks threw his arms in the air. “It’ll be an experience! I cannae sing without dancers!”

The Count’s eyes narrowed. Nastasia held her breath.

“Very well,” he said, after a moment. Nastasia folded her hands behind her back and kept her mouth tight, though she could feel a tiny smile sneak through. She held patiently still as he drifted across the campsite to them.

Her claw fit so naturally into his. He straightened to his full height, admittedly not that much taller. But tall enough for his chin to sit over her head.

“Oh, yeh already know how tha’ goes? Great,” O’Chunks grinned. He bounced excitedly. “Ah, I think I still got some dance in me. I got this song stuck in me head anyhow.”

_“[Just give me your hand,](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DtfjYda24kvg&t=NTQxNDUwNGEwNDgyYjBlNjhlYmFkNjdlZTgxNmRlM2NkYzI2YTA3MSxzOHB3M3BLQg%3D%3D&b=t%3A1j-_LrVdzRhxFQEgyZRF_A&p=https%3A%2F%2Fspmcomic.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F184260015584%2Fthis-world-had-the-most-bizarre-sky-nastasia-had&m=1)_

_Tabhair dom do lámh._

_Just give me your hand,_

_For the world it is ours._

_All the sea and the land,_

_To destroy or command,_

_If you give me your hand.”_

The Count swayed back and forth, gently, easy for Nastasia to follow. She looked up at him as they made their way in a wide circle around the campfire. He had his attention on the stars above, but eventually caught her eyes again, and closed his. She leaned against his chest and let him lead her around the fire.

“There’s really, um, nothing quite like it,” she sighed. The Count hummed in agreement, his voice thrumming through her whole being.

And O’Chunks sang.

_“Just give me your hand,_

_In a gesture of peace._

_Will you give me your hand_

_And all troubles will cease,_

_For the strong and the weak,_

_For the rich and the poor?_

_All peoples and creeds,_

_Let’s meet their needs._

_With a passion, we can fashion,_

_A new world of love!”_


End file.
